


A Day on the Roof

by Kary



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: AU of the roof, Cannon au, Challenge: Everlark Week, Everlak's first time, F/M, One-Shot, Seven Deadly Sins, everlark, writen for Prompts In Panem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:29:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kary/pseuds/Kary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I rest my head on his shoulder as we watch the sky’s changing colors. It’s beautiful. I’m thankful to Peeta for wake me up. I would have hated missing this, because is one of the few sunsets I have left, and I’m sure this is the last one I can enjoy peacefully.</p><p>My last sunset. My last days."</p><p>Katniss deals with her emotions while watching the sunset on the roof with Peeta. Rates M for mature content. This work was writen for PiP (Seven Deadly Sins week) and has all the Seven Deadly Sins but focus on Lust as the main one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day on the Roof

I don’t ever want to move again. I’m too comfortable here, lying in the sun, with my head on Peeta’s lap, dozing on and off as he lazily runs his hand through my locks, claiming he’s practicing how to make knots.

We’ve been up here, on the roof all day. Effie and Haymitch gave us the day off, so Peeta and I grabbed a blanket, a mountain of food and came up. We laughed and made up games with the force field, chased each other around, tickled each other. Peeta sketched while I made a crown of flowers. Then we stuffed ourselves with food, knowing it was one of the last banquets that we had left. Or at least that  _I_ have left, because I’m planning on getting Peeta out of the arena, so he can have more banquets like this in the future.

But know, with our stomach filled and sated, we just lay on the blanket, content on doing nothing but enjoying each other’s company and watching the sun drags slowly across the sky and lowering into the skyline. Peeta said he wanted to freeze this moment and live in it forever, so I’m allowing, making no attempt to move.

“Katniss,” Peeta’s soft voice wakes me up.

I must have been asleep for a good while, because the sky is no longer blue but it’s starting to take the pink-ish hue that precedes the orange of the sunset. Peeta’s favorite color.

I look up at him and offer a lazy, sleepy smile. He smiles right back at me.

“I didn’t think you’d want to miss it,” he says stroking my head a couple more times, and I know he is referring to the sunset.

I lift my head from his lap and place a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thanks.”

Peeta stands and offers me his hand to help me up, but he doesn’t let go when I’m on my feet. I don’t mind because I don’t want to let go either. I wave my fingers through his and squeeze affectionately. He returns the squeeze and guides me to the ledge of the roof.

I rest my head on his shoulder as we watch the sky’s changing colors. It’s beautiful. I’m thankful to Peeta for wake me up. I would have hated missing this, because is one of the few sunsets I have left, and I’m sure this is the last one I can enjoy peacefully.

 My last sunset. My last days.

 When I think of all the thing the Capitol is taking from me, the thought make my hate for Snow burn harder. I’ll die in just a few days. I’ll never get to see Prim on her wedding day or be there when her first child is born. I’ll never see if Haymitch will ever do something with his life other than slowly killing his liver with alcohol. I’ll never know if freedom will someday come to our country. I’ll never know if Peeta is going to be able to give more victors to our district.

Peeta. I’ll never see another painting created by him or tell him how much I love his cheese buns. I won’t see any more of his wonderful creations frosted into a cake. I won’t see the way his eyes seem twinkle when he smiles or how his golden lashes caress his cheeks when he blinks. I won’t hear those comments that hint his undying love for me. I will never get to experience the feeling I got with that one in the cave.

I never wanted those kind of things before. I never wanted to get married and have someone by my side in that way every day. But since I met Peeta, I’ve been wanting them more and more. I wonder if I could’ve ever grown to love him the way he loves me. If I’d miss him when was not with me. If I’d long for his lips on mine. If I’d long for more. If he could change my mind about marriage and children.

The image of a future with Peeta comes to me uninvited before I can stop and I find myself greedy for that future. I want to have everything Peeta could give me. But I’m too proud to say out loud that he may be changing the way I’ve seen thing all my life.

The sun is already halfway gone. I look over at the city. I envy its citizens. Not their money or hideous fashions. I envy their carefree lives. They’re not afraid of wanting something or having something because they know it won’t be taken away from them. We never were given that chance.  _I_ was never given that chance. And I wanted it now. That’s why I envy them.

Anger fills my body. Not against the clueless capitolists, but against their leader: President Coriolanus Snow. What did we do to deserve this? We, the people in the districts (the children more than anyone) are all been punished because of something that happened 75 years ago. We weren’t part of that, but still 23 of us die each year because of that stupid war.

I want to kill Snow. I fantasize about him death; his lifeless, bloody body, pale skin and empty eyes; gone for good. President or not he has no right to make us fight to death for his and his people amusement. I hope after this games are over, the rebellion rises and destroys him. I hope Peeta will be there to lead them with his words.

I’m so full of hate and rage towards Snow right now that I’m practically shaking.

Peeta can sense it; I know because he squeezes my hand. He must think I’m just getting cold. I haven’t noticed because I was so lost in thought, but the sun is gone. Great. Now I also let Snow take one of my last sunsets from me.

I drop Peeta’s hand suddenly and he turns to me with a look of confusion and slightly hurt. He must think I didn’t want to be near him anymore. There’s nothing farthest from the truth. I need the comfort of his arms now more than ever. I need him to soothe these bad feelings I’m having.

"Katniss, what’s wrong?” he ask, his voice concerned.

I just shake my head and wrap my arms around his waist burying my face on the crook of his neck. With the sun gone, I no longer care about the view. It seems that I took him off guard because he doesn’t reciprocate immediately.

“Please,” I say, my voice muffled against his shirt, “Just hold me, Peeta. Please.” I beg pathetically.

In an instant his arm close protectively around me and he holds me to his chest tightly. He can hear the need in my voice. He’s cradling the back of my head with one hand. I think about how his hands are strong enough to kill, yet gentle enough to create beautiful things. I find myself imagining what else his hands are able to do, how they would feel on my body, kneading like he does to the dough, caressing, worshiping.

I’m shaking for an entirely different reason now. I’m shaking neither form anger nor form cold. Is like the feeling from our kiss on the cave, but magnified by hundreds and thousands times.

The feeling seems to impossibly intensify when I feel Peeta turn his head and kisses my hair. Before he backs away I turn my head and capture his lips on a kiss. He hesitates for only a second before responding to my lips eagerly. We both close our eyes. When I realize this is the first kiss we’ve shared without any cameras or audience around, the first kiss we share only for ourselves, I lose myself on it.

I feel Peeta’s tongue caressing the seam of my lips, asking permission without words because I sense he doesn’t want to part from our kiss. Good; I don’t want to part from it either. I sigh and open my mouth to allow him entrance (I seem to be allowing him many thing today). He moans against my mouth right before his tongue meets mine on a hot, sensuous dance, our kiss deepening. One of his hands is still cradling the back of my head, fisting my hair without actually pulling, while the other hand grips my waist.

My imagination is running wild with thoughts of things I’ve never experienced before; things I never imagined myself wanting like I want them right now. Thing I really know nothing about, but my body seems to crave for. Every time he moans or groans, with every stroke of his tongue against mine, a primal need inside of me gets bigger and bigger. I feel something wet and sticky on my panties, but I can’t bring myself to care. The more my need grows, the wetter I get.

Back in the cave, my bleeding wound and the thousands of eyes watching us (not to mention the mess of my confusing feeling) stopped us from going further. But right here, right now, there is only us to stops us. No one has come up here to check on us all day and I doubt they’ll come now. They’re giving us our space. Perfect.

My need reach a whole new level when I press myself closer to Peeta and feel the not-so-little bulge on the front of his pants. I break the kiss with a gasp.

For a second, Peeta’s blue eyes look terrified, as if he thinks that I’m going to push him away. He opens his mouth to speak, his face telling me he’s about to apologize, but I won’t let him.

I speak before he can get a word out. “I want you, Peeta,” I say, my voice sounding husky and not at all like me, but I don’t care, “I  _need_  you. Now.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. His eyes darken visibly and he crushes his lips to my again, hungrily, savagely. I reciprocate with equal favor. Both of his hands go to my hips and he hoist me up, never breaking the kiss. I wrap my legs around his waist and feel him start to walk. Instinctively I know he’s moving us back towards the blanket.

Peeta stops (we’ve reached the blanket, I assume) and squeezes my hips lightly. I think for a second what could it mean and then it downs on me: he can lower us both to the blanket, not with his bad leg. I break the kiss and hold his lustful gaze, letting him see my desire for him in my eyes. I unwrap myself from around him and slowly slide down the front of his body. He hisses as I graze his hard-on on my way down. I just smirk.

I look down for a second when I’m on my feet and realize that we’re not at the edge like I had thought. We’re standing at the very center of it.

His hands are still on my waist, so I touch his forearms softly. We don’t need words to be on sync. We both kneel down at the same time, never looking away from each other’s eyes. His gaze holds more than lust; there’s something tender and intense and pure on his blue orbs, I don’t focus on it much because my want for him is getting greater by the second.

One of his hands goes to my head again and he gently lays me on my back. Behind him, the stars are beginning to appear on the night sky.

He hovers over me now, all rush forgotten. I can tell he is nervous. I am too; I’ve never done this and from what I’ve heard, the first time is supposed to be painful. But I want to give this part of me to Peeta. He’s given me so much and he deserves have this from me. Something to remember me for after I’m gone. Something I never dreamed of giving to anyone until this night.

“I’ve never done this.” He confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. I also notice that the arm holding him up is shaking. 

I smile up at him and cup his cheek with my hand. My finger are shaking too. “Me neither.” I reassure him. “I’m just as nervous as you are.”

He turns his head and brushes a kiss into my palm. “Are you sure you want to do this with me?” he ask, lightly caressing my cheek with the back of his hand.

I can only nod. I’m very sure. We don’t even need protection, because they gave us both a shot of birth control during prep time for the parade. Of course they think we’ve been having sex all along. It’s supposed to last for three months, which is fine because we’ll only make good use of it tonight.

When he just keeps looking at me like he’s waiting for me to elaborate I speak. “I can’t imagine doing this with anyone but you.” It’s true. I’ve never felt this way before. No one else has ever provoked these wanting on me. Only him. Only Peeta.  _My Peeta_ , I think selfishly.

He nods, as if to reassure himself and then lowers his body to mine. I relish on the weight of his chest on top of mine, but I know he is been careful not to rest fully on top of me either.

He takes off my shirt and while he tosses it aside I remove my bra. He stares at me with wide eyes and a slack jaw and he doesn’t to quite know what to do with his hands, what to touch first or if he should touch me at all. He seems to be at a loss for words.

I take advantage of his moment of admiration and shock to peel of his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest to me. It’s even more defined than what I remembered from our games, when I found him by the creek and bathed him. I run my hand over it and down to his stomach, than lift my head to place a kiss directly above his heart. This seems to break Peeta from the spell he was in. he looks into my eyes tenderly, a shy smile on his lips that I know I mirror.

I know my chest is no very big. Does he likes what he’s seeing? As if reading my mind, he reaches out with both hands and cups my breasts gently, squeezing lightly. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathes. I can just moan and arch into his hands. I know now how the dough must feel; the feeling of his hands kneading my flesh is unlike anything I’ve ever known, unbelievably good. I almost explode when he adds his mouth onto the mix, lavishing my mounds with attention, alternating between the two, moaning as if they’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

I love what he is doing but I need attention in other areas below my waist. I pull on his blond curls and he lift his head from my chest to look me in the eyes. “I need you, Peeta.  _Now_. Please.”

He nods and sits up some. He unbuttons my pants and pulls them down my legs along with my wet underwear, leaving me exposed. I feel a little self-conscious, but he is looking at me with so much tenderness that it ease my mind. He reaches for his own pants, but it stop him. I want to be the one to undress him.

Without looking away from his eyes, I guide him to lay back and undo the button and unzip it, sliding them down his legs along with his boxer. I break eye contact only to pull his pants off completely, carefully avoiding look at his manhood just yet; I know I’ll lose my nerve if I do. Luckily we were both barefoot all afternoon, so we don’t have to bother with removing shoes.

I look back at Peeta’s eyes when I have his pants off and he appears more nervous now. I know it’s not because of his prosthetic. I’m used to it and he’s used to me seeing it. He’s nervous about what I’ll think about him down there. I take a deep breath and finally look at it. I have nothing to compare it to, but he seems fairly big and I wonder if that’s going to fit inside my body. It’s hard and pointing upward and I get a little thrilled that I was the one who did this to him.

Acting on pure instinct, wrap my hand around him and lean down to place a light kiss on the tip. He lets out a breathy moan that tells me he liked what I did. I look up at him and smile, letting go of him and crawling back up his body. I stop when I’m level with his face and kiss him softly on the lips. One of his hands cups my cheek gently while responds to the movement of my mouth. We’re trying to reassure the other about what’s about what we’re about to do.

“I’m ready, Peeta.” I whisper to him when we pull apart.

“I love you, Katniss.” He says in return. Is the first time he’s said it directly to me and I can’t contain the smile that his words provoke.

He switch our positions and lays me on my back gently, pecking me once more on the lips before siting up again. He opens my legs and kneels between them, then takes himself on his hand and tries to find my entrance, but he can’t quite manage it. I smile tenderly up at him and put my hand on top of his to guide him. Our breaths quickens when his tip is grazing my folds, but he doesn’t enter me yet.

He leans forward and whispers on my ear, “I’ll go slow and try to be gentle.”

I nod and kiss his cheek. “I trust you.” I breathe back at him, wrapping my arms around his torso and placing my hands on his back. “Make love to me, Peeta.” I say it because I know that is what this would be.

He starts to push in and it hurts a little. Is like a knife is cutting me, but I don’t say anything. I don’t want him to feel bad, so I just close my eyes tightly, greet my teeth and dig my nails onto his back. “You’re so tight. It feels so good,” he groans and continues to enter me until he’s fully sheathed inside me, our hips flush. But then he stops moving. I wonder if something is wrong, because I feel his whole body shaking. I’m about to ask what happens when he speaks.

“Tell me when is okay for me to move.” His voice is strained and I know it must take all of his self-control not to pump away like surely wants. He’s giving me time to adjust. The gesture sparks something in my chest that I can’t quite comprehend yet.

There’s pain, yes, but there’s also a tingly sensation and a need for friction and release. I squeeze my insides around him and he groans. “Move, Peeta. Make me yours.”

He tries to move at a slow pace for my sake, but as the pain subsides, I want him to move faster. So I show him with my body what I want; I start to buck against him, trying to find a rhythm. When we finally coordinate, is easier to increase speed and intensity when we want to. I feel the pleasure coiling inside of me, ready to spring at any moment. We’re both sweating, but it only makes everything that much more hot and sensuous

It seems Peeta feels the same. “Katniss, I can’t hold on much longer.” He gets out through greeted teeth and I know is taking everything he has not to lose it right now.

He’s pace is furious by now, and he’s pumping into me erratically, trying to get me there with him. Suddenly I feel one of his hands snake between our bodies and he begins to rub a place that sends me over the edge on matter of seconds.

“Peeta!” I cry out, my insides clenching around his erection while my whole body convulses in waves of pleasure. My fingernails dig harder into the sweaty skin of his back and my thighs squeeze his hips

The feeling of my climax around him is enough to send him flying with me. His body stiffens on top of mine he shudder several times. Peeta comes shouting my name into the night sky. I feel his climax spill to me and it feels incredible that I was able to him this, give myself to him.

We come down to earth from the sky and he pulls out of me, collapsing onto his back beside me. I feel cold and empty without him, so I waste no time on curling against him and rest my head on his chest. His arms come around me and we just lay there, sated, content.

Our skin starts to cool and Peeta reaches over to pull the part of the blanket we’re not laying on over our still naked bodies.

“Thank you, Katniss.” He says after a while.

“Is me who should be thanking you.” I say. And he chuckles quietly.

We stay on the roof most of the night, making love under the stars, discovering all the ways we can be fiscally together: me on top of him, from behind, me on my hands and knees. We explore the other’s body and learn how else make the other come: with our hands with our mouths.

I feel more alive on just this one night than I’ve felt all of my life.

We descend from the roof and slip in to my room to get some sleep little before the sunrise, not wanting anyone to find us naked and discovering what we did all night long. Peeta drifts first, holding me tightly in is arms, and while I rest my head on his chest and let his even breathing lull me to sleep I think about the spark I felt on my chest while making love to him, the thrill when he told  _me_ , without any cameras around, that he loves me.

He loves me. I didn’t say it back, because I’m not sure of my feeling yet.

Then realization hits me: I do love him. Maybe I’ll never say the word out loud because I’m not good with words; words is Peeta’s area of expertise. But I’ll make sure to demonstrate to him with my actions. In just a few days I’ll die to make sure Peeta leaves out of the arena alive. That’s how I know that I love him: I’ll give life to save his, because a life without Peeta is unthinkable for me now. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a one-shot writen for PiP... I hope you liked it
> 
> I'm currently working on a multi-chapter project for the THG fandom: a modern AU... but there's not release date yet... come to hang with me on tumbler: karycautivo.tumbler.com


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